


Cats Who Bite

by BullySquadess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, First Kisses, Teasing, finally resolved UST, thigh biting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 01:59:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13560282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: For @wickerbotter who requested Alya/Chat with my choice of kinks. Thigh biting and banter ahead!





	Cats Who Bite

“Is starting off with a question too cliche?” Alya asked aloud, glasses perched low on her nose and eyes squinting at her computer screen. The click of her fingers against her keyboard was the only sound in the otherwise silent room, until a sleepy voice answered from beneath the desk.

“Lazy writing,” her visitor yawned, the words heavy with interrupted sleep. Humming in agreement, Alya tweaked the opening of her essay, fingernails narrowly avoiding a pair of black leather cat ears as they sifted through the soft blonde hair draped across her legs.

This wasn’t the first night Chat Noir had decided to pass out on her lap. No, that had been about two months ago, when the patter of rain against her roof had deterred him from returning home (then later lulled him into a deep slumber). And even then, his first visit had come weeks before that, after Adrien had overheard a certain classmate of his lamenting her lack of one-on-one interviews with Paris’ protectors.

Whether out of fright or excitement, Alya had screamed the night Chat Noir had come a-knocking at her window, and somewhere between her gushing over his heroics and him gushing over her blog, they managed to conduct a semi-coherent interview that ended up being the most fun Adrien had had in eons. From there the interviews became a weekly occurrence between the two, despite the fact even the ever-curious Alya couldn’t come up with enough questions to justify his visits. They still found things to talk about long after she’d exhausted Chat’s well of shareable miraculous information. 

Chat loved Alya’s stories of people she’d met through her blog, and would listen to her rant for hours on end with either a howling laugh or sympathetic nod. Likewise, Alya hung on Chat’s every word as he chronicled his and Ladybug’s behind the scenes adventures, prying for further details when she felt she could get away with it and simply marveling at the stories when she couldn’t.Little by little what few formalities stood between them vanished, until it wasn’t uncommon to find Alya clad only in a pair of underwear and a large t-shirt as she and Chat Noir lounged on her bed watching 48 Hours. 

Their relationship was a simple one, founded on a mutual love of all things nerdy and fueled by a steady diet of twizzlers and Netflix docu-series, and Adrien never went a day without giving thanks for his newest friend.

“You staying here tonight?” Alya asked softly, her fingers still working absolute magic against his scalp.

(Her touch had quickly become his favorite, speeding his pulse and warming his chest with even the simplest contact.)

Chat half-moaned half-hummed an affirmative, far past the point of shame as he butted against Alya’s legs. “Probably should,” he murmured around his purr, “Father’s still bent about me ditching piano class.”

His pillow gave a huff. “Bastard. My offer to doxx him still stands.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Chat laughed. He grinned at the notion of someone doxxing Gabriel Agreste… then immediately frowned at cessation of his petting. “Hey!”

“You’ve distracted me enough tonight,” Alya clucked, her fingers resuming their frantic dance across the keyboard. “This college application is due next week and this is the last night I have to finish it up.”

“Distracting? I’m making sure you stay focused on your task!”

“By sleeping under my desk?”

“Exactly!”

“My hero,” Alya snorted, and Chat perked up for the inevitable ear scratch that didn’t come. He pouted at the rebuke, wiggling out from his hide-away just far enough to send Alya a glower she pointedly avoided.

‘ _So that’s how it’s gunna be?_ ’ Chat thought, his lip jutting out further.

Cats  _did not_  like to be ignored.

His movement were fluid as he slid back under the desk, body silent like a predator as he took position. It took only seconds for his eyes to re-adjust to the dimness, and once they did his gaze went straight to Alya’s socked feet.

His target, as it so happened.

“Did you just bite my toe?!” Alya squawked, her entire leg jerking as he launched his attack. She shoved her chair back far enough to glare down at him, cocking a brow as if to say  _“seriously??”_.

“Pay attention to me,” Chat demanded with a flutter of his lashes.

Brown eyes narrowed, plump lips parted as if to speak, and…

Alya cleared her throat, straightened in her seat, and without a word went back to typing.

Uh, oh. Silent treatment. Looks like he needed to bring out the big guns.

Undeterred by her indifference, Chat went back to his assault, starting with a nip to her ankle.

…No response.

A nip to her calf.

…No response.

A nip to her knee.

…Na-da.

“Al…” Chat implored, pricking his teeth across every bit of her kneecap. “I can keep this up all night.”

…

When his words were met with her continued silence, Chat Noir grew bold. 

He didn’t think about schematics. He didn’t stop to ponder whether or not his next actions were within the fragile bounds of their “just friends” tango. He simply grabbed Alya’s knees, nudged her legs open, and bit down hard on the flesh of her thigh.

_“Mmmm-nnmg~!”_

Chat froze, his ears ringing with Alya’s sweet cry and his lips poised against her soft skin. Her thighs quivered beneath his touch, her breathing grew shallow, and neither spoke for a beat. Frozen by circumstance, the moment dragged, until Alya eventually broke the silence.

“Do it again,” she plead softly,  _desperately,_  parting her legs further and scooting to the edge of her chair.

Chat’s pulse (among other things) responded immediately to her words, rocketing into a frenzied tempo that that was half-disbelief half-lust. He wasn’t sure what shocked him more, his own actions or her ardent response. Both were something out of his wildest fantasies. He’d spent months denying the building attraction between them, writing it off as a by-product of his loneliness, but with just one whispered request Alya had effectively blown the dam.

He cared for her. He cared for her so so much.

And now all he wanted to do was show her how much he could care for her, how good he could make her feel.

Alya’s next moan was echoed by one of his own, both noises mingling as his teeth once again scraped along her goosebump-riddled skin. His tongue was quick to follow, laving against the angry red patch as if to soothe the sting. He didn’t know if his desire to mark her came from Chat’s instincts, Adrien’s proclivities, or perhaps even Alya’s subconscious urging, but at this point it didn’t matter. He was helpless to resist whatever force drove him to seal his mouth against that same spot over and over again, biting and licking and sucking till he was certain there’d be a bruise.

(He wanted to leave something,  _anything,_  to later remind Alya that what was happening right now was real. That he was here, on his knees, loving her and pleasing her like he’d wanted to for so long.)

“Oh God Chat,” Alya breathed, her legs shaking even more pronouncedly than before as he feathered his mouth up her inner thigh, showering kisses and nips across every bit of skin he could reach. Her hands finally abandoned her keyboard to reconnect with his head, twining in his hair with a reckless sort of abandon that had Chat twitching beneath his leather suit.

He growled low in his throat when Alya tugged at his locks, his clawed fingertips etching shallow trails up both of her thighs. This, of course, only made his _oh-so-responsive_  little reporter tug twice as hard as before, leading to a sort of dance between the two as they feed off each other’s pain/pleasure. So focused on sensation was he that Chat’s eyes slid shut, leaving him reliant on his other heightened senses.

He  _felt_  Alya’s hand tangled in his hair, felt her warm skin beneath his lips. He  _heard_  her breath quicken whenever he found a new bit of un-loved flesh, heard her curse beneath said breath whenever he bit down upon it. He _tasted_  the subtle salt of her sweat, gathered over hours of her bare legs pressed together.

And once finished worshiping every inch of her gorgeous thighs, working his way up each one until his face had nowhere to go but between them, he could  _smell_  just how much she enjoyed having him there.

“Fuck Alya,” Chat murmured, pressing the words as a kiss against the front of her panties. Her scent grew stronger as he did so, and the brief parting of his lips was enough to hint at another taste he was just aching to sample. “Can I…?”

“Yes,” Alya answered, her voice taking on that pleading tone that did all manner of dangerous things to his pulse. “Please yes I need you so m-much…”

Apparently he didn’t act fast enough for her tastes, because in the next moment Alya was reaching towards her waistband and shimmying in her seat to rid herself of her ruined underwear, spreading her legs even farther in open invitation. The action was enough to snap Chat from his lust-induced haze, bidding his eyes open to fall upon the patch of dark, damp curls waiting eagerly for his attention.

He groaned again, reaching down with one hand to adjust his straining cock. The other hooked her left knee over his shoulder, and Alya keened at the teasing stripe he licked up the length of her now flushed and hickey-patterned thighs. Wetting his lips, Chat pressed a scorching kiss to the seam of her leg, his claws pricking just far enough into the tops of her thighs to keep her still.

Finally,  _joyously_ , his mouth parted, leaning forward to whisper:

“So, did you finish that application yet?”

…

“W-what?” Alya asked, her body still taut with anticipation and quivering with need.

“Your application,” Chat repeated, breathing the words  _hot_  against her waiting core. “Did you finish it?”

There was a beat of silence as Alya processed. And then-

“Don’t you dare,” she hissed, her fingers digging against his scalp and her words laced with enough poison to kill a lesser superhero. He smirked despite the fact she couldn’t see him. “Chat Noir you son of a-”

Alya nearly wailed as he eased her leg off his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t want to distract you from your very important work,” Chat sighed through his shit-eating grin, adjusting himself one last time before wheeling her chair back far enough for him to stand. 

Alya looked about how he expected her to: flushed, panting, and absolutely livid. Her nipples stood out against the thin material of her sleep shirt, her knuckles were white as they gripped the armrests they sat upon, and her eyes spelled  _murder_ behind her slightly askew glasses.

“If I didn’t love you so much,” she began in a measured tone, possibly missing the way Chat’s pupils dilated in excitement, “I would throw you out on the street.”

Chat laughed at that- a wonderous, mischievous sound. 

“Well then,” he said, gathering his courage and leaning down to place his hands atop hers, “I guess it’s a good thing you love me then…”

His third taste of Alya was tinged with her nightly decaf, delivered straight from her tongue to his. The kiss was somehow both lazy and charged, melding from soft and longing to desperate and playful then slowing back down again. It ended soft, the two parting with twin smiles.

That is until Alya gripped Chat’s chin and sent him a stern look.

“Please tell me you plan on finishing what you started.”

“Finish your essay and I’ll be waiting in your bed,” he promised in a low purr, stealing another kiss, scooping her discarded panties off the floor, and leaving her to her work.

* * *

Three months later Alya got her acceptance letter.

That same night, her boyfriend Adrien got the best sex of his life.


End file.
